Love and Running
by zenniel
Summary: Oneshot. Andryl fic. Andrea's breath burned in her lungs. A stitch had worked itself into her side and the gun bag grew heavier by the second. She couldn't stop, though. Andrea had to keep living.


**Sorry I haven't been around at all lately. Those of you who've started my three-shot, I'm working on that last chapter. But first I have to get back into the swing of things (mainly back into Andrea and Daryl's minds). Everyone okay with that? Of course you are! And now for the main attraction. Ready, set, Andryl fic!**

It was dark; the only light that filtered through the trees was that of the moon. Any other given time this would have been deemed as serene but Andrea could think of it only as a hellish nightmare waiting to happen. Except the nightmare was already here; she was living it. She had long ago left the sickly fire of the dying barn, long ago left behind the farm she'd come to call 'home,' or whatever semblance of home there was anymore, and she knew she couldn't go back there… not even to see if anyone had come back for her. Her worst fear right now wasn't dying; it was going back and realizing that everyone thought she was dead. It was realizing that they would never come back that gripped her stomach in the oddest way.

She wondered if anyone even cared about her. Maybe Carol would say something. Rick wouldn't want to go back and most of the survivors would agree with him. Herschel would never want to see his farm again. Then her mind wandered to one particular southern man and she wondered if Daryl would push to find her.

"No time to think about that now," Andrea whispered to herself breathlessly as she hiked the gun back farther onto her shoulder and jogged past a fallen tree. Somewhere close a few moans broke the night silence, and Andrea knew the real nightmare would soon begin.

- - - Four Days Ago - - -

"The squirrel tasted good tonight," Andrea mused as she threw the last of the bones into the fire and watched as the embers flared to life momentarily, licking at the bone and engulfing it for the briefest of moments before once again dying down.

After watching the small display, Andrea looked at Daryl, wondering if he'd picked up on her compliment. He probably had, but he showed nothing as he gnawed a bone leftover from his own squirrel. He stared into the fire and Andrea drew her eyes away from him to look back toward the flickering flames. It was late and everyone else had gone to bed, though there was no lack of feeling like she belonged here. Daryl had become more receptive of the whole group, of her even, after all of the things they'd been through. In a way, the night had only grown 'warmer' for her as people left simply because of that… whatever it was that made her stomach twist into knots whenever she saw Daryl. Attraction, maybe? She didn't know.

It was warm here beside the dying fire but as the night grew older and the fire died down, cold began to wrap is arms around the two. Despite trying not to, Andrea shivered. This shook Daryl out of his stupor, and he turned his eyes from the fire to look at her, breaking away from whatever he had been thinking about. He still held that bone of his in his hand, but it seemed as if he'd forgotten about it.

"Yer still awake." He said. It wasn't a question.

She made a face, falling just short of sticking out her tongue. "Welcome back to the world."

He scowled at her and stood up, "Yeah shut up, Blondie."

His voice wasn't harsh, though; instead, it seemed to be more joking than anything else. Andrea looked up at him, knowing an apology would be about as welcoming as a declaration of love, and it wouldn't fit here with his joking tone besides. So she shrugged her shoulders enough so that he could see in the dim light and retorted, "Wasn't me who was staring into the fire, blank-faced like a walker."

Though his scowl didn't let up, his voice was lighter. "Don't have t'sit there. Bit a neighborly advice: Ya ain't no kid who's gotta wait for a parent."

Andrea's mouth twisted upwards into a smile and she shook her head with exasperation. She hadn't been waiting for his approval, but he knew that. She _had_, however, been waiting for him. She rolled her eyes both at the sudden feeling in her stomach and at him. She stood then and as soon as she did, he started walking away without so much as a backwards glance. After making sure the fire was banked enough not to cause problems should a freak windstorm pick up, Andrea made her way slowly to her tent.

He was waiting for her there, which surprised her. His eyes glinted in the moonlight that filtered through the trees eerily, and she stopped a couple feet away to look at him, surprised at his presence at her tent. For a moment he did nothing, but then he stepped forward and pulled her to him. It took a second to realize what was happening, but almost as soon as she understood, his lips crushed painfully against hers, sending a shockwave through her body. The kiss _hurt_, but it was only for a moment and when he pulled away, he looked at her and his eyes burned in the night. Then, without a word, he turned and walked away.

Andrea wasn't going to lie, the kiss had startled her but it hadn't been _bad_. Smiling slightly and touching her lips, she ducked into her tent. She didn't even know what had just happened.

But it felt good.

- - - Now - - -

Andrea's breath burned in her lungs. A stitch had worked itself into her side and the gun bag grew heavier by the second. She couldn't stop, though. Ever since last night when walkers overran that last vestige of hope she'd invested herself in, she'd been intermittently walking, jogging, running, and sometimes full out sprinting to keep ahead of the hungry undead mouths that wanted her flesh as breakfast. It was early morning now, and the world was blanketed with the sort of predawn gray that most often brought illusions to the human eye. Andrea paused for a moment, resting against the back of a sturdy tree. Her whole body heaved as she tried to catch her breath.

All too soon her little moment of respite fell apart as a walker tumbled down the hill to her right in its haste to reach her. It let out a low moan that was quickly picked up by other walkers, effectively turning the woods into a walker-chorus. With a moan of her own, Andrea pushed away from the tree to continue her seemingly never-ending escape from death.

"It sure would be nice to see what lies ahead," she muttered to herself as she pulled the trigger of her gun and sent a bullet neatly into the head of the fallen walker before trudging up the hill.

- - - Two Days Ago - - -

Daryl watched Andrea as the woman poured her handful of dirt over Dale's body. She wasn't crying. It wasn't weird to see that, not anymore. She'd cried the night before, while the old man was breathing his last right before Daryl had shot him between the eyes. But she was stronger today as she stepped away from the grave to join the rest of the congregated mass. This was different. Today was a new day, and Daryl knew that from looking at her. She wouldn't cry today, he knew it.

He stood behind her almost protectively though Carol also took the initiative to move closer, too. When the grave was filled in and the stones placed protectively around the fresh dirt, the group stood silently for some time, whether lost in their own thoughts or impatiently shifting from foot to foot. Then Rick started talking and ended with telling the group that Dale was not wrong. That they could actually work together as a group still.

Andrea squared her shoulders then, and as soon as the others deemed it appropriate to dismiss themselves from standing around the gravesite, she stalked away. Daryl was going to go after her, for why he had no idea, but Rick stepped in front of his path. Narrowing his eyes at Rick, he wondered what the former Sheriff wanted that was so important as to stop him.

"I want you, Shane, T-Dog, and Andrea to go check the outer fences. I've already told Shane and T-Dog; would you mind asking Andrea?"

After telling Rick he would, and after asking Andrea, the four loaded up into the truck. It was courtesy to let her ride shotgun while Shane drove. Besides, Daryl liked sitting in the back. He kept glancing over his shoulder, though, to look at Andrea as they drove. A few times they got out and Daryl used his tracking skills to find and kill walkers.

Then, in a stretch of land where an open field assaulted their eyes, three walkers sat eating a cow and a few others were staggering toward it, intent on a meal. Shane parked the car and they all piled out. Daryl, with his crossbow, ended one walker's re-life, and another soon followed the first into definitive death, and a sick sense of adrenaline coursed through his body. The others were using similarly silent weapons, and they killed lacking the precision of his weapon, but with intense blows and the pointy ends of farm weaponry, they got the job done. Until there was one walker left. It seemed that Shane had saved the last one for them, and each and every one of them kicked it. Daryl did twice before walking away, a revolting feeling settling into his stomach over having kicked someone who had once been alive. He hadn't ever really thought that way until Dale… last night.

He noted Andrea continuing to kick it, using all of her pent up frustration and sadness, before Shane slammed the shovel down on its head. They stood there for a moment before turning back to the truck. This time Andrea sat in the back with Daryl. Somehow during the ride, she slid closer to him until about halfway there they were rubbing shoulders and arms with each bounce. He let it be, and oftentimes caught himself glancing at her sidelong. Once he thought he saw her crying, but when he looked again, her cheeks were dry.

He had nothing to say to her and she had nothing to say back as the truck bounced along down the road back to their 'home.'

- - - Now - - -

The sun was already blazing overhead, turning the early autumn morning into an uncomfortable summer day. There were fewer walkers now than before, which was similarly good and bad seeing as Andrea's bursts of adrenaline were slowly fading. She couldn't feel her legs anymore; they'd long ago become jelly. She had so many stitches that her whole body ached and she was pretty sure that the beginnings of a headache had forced itself upon her. She must have been eighteen miles out from anywhere, stranded in a forest filled with tireless creatures ready to grab for her throat. Her only consolation was the bag of guns she still hadn't given up and the gun in her hand that had saved her life more than once this past night.

Resting her trigger finger not exactly on the trigger of her gun, which was not her trusty Ladysmith because Lady had run out of bullets, Andrea walked slowly forward through the trees, glancing around all the time to make sure no walkers would catch her unaware. A yawn forced itself up through her throat but she would not stop. Her back hurt, her feet hurt, her legs hurt; hell, her stomach hurt, too. 'If I would have known about the horde a day ago,' the woman thought bitterly, 'I would have had thought to pack myself a meal, maybe a squirrel sandwich.'

To accentuate that, Andrea's stomach rumbled fiercely and she grumbled aloud, "You're preaching to the choir. Go tell it to the frogs."

- - - Two Days Ago - - -

"Who the hell cares about your secrets!" Maggie was yelling at Glenn in another of their 'break up then make up' episodes. Andrea smirked slightly and walked past the room they were in. Hershel had allowed the survivors to move into the house, which was a good thing, but soon after they'd started moving supplies, Randall went missing. The whole farm was put on high alert. Andrea had, of course, gone looking for him, too, not being one to be cooped up all day in a house.

They hadn't found him; he was either hiding too well or he'd left the premises. Andrea had stopped looking when Shane showed up with a broken nose shouting that Randall knocked him around and had run away. Andrea didn't believe it for a moment after having known Shane for far too long. Shane didn't get 'knocked around' or whatever he'd said; Andrea could see that crazy look in his eye, too.

Andrea knew Maggie was worried because Glenn and Daryl were going to go out searching for Randall. It would be dark soon, and everyone knew that the woods became one hundred percent more terrifying 'after hours.' Maggie had a right to worry.

The blond was just rounding a corner when Daryl turned it; not surprisingly they both bumped into each other. "Watch where yer goin'." He growled out, his voice thick. Then he realized who she was, and blinked, "Oh, it's you."

"Sorry," She diverted quickly, not looking at him, not daring to feel that surge of emotion as he stood there strongly, all together in her way. She searched for a way around him but his frame was blocking her route. "I, um. I've gotta get the rest of my stuff."

"Andrea." He mused and she looked up at him, "C'mon, walk with me."

Slightly confused and trying very hard to keep her roiling stomach under control, Andrea waited for him to walk before settling in a few paces behind. Once out of the house, he strolled over to the barn where Randall had 'mysteriously overtaken Shane,' and tapped the door with his crossbow. He was ready to go, she knew; he was just waiting for Glenn. The walk over had been bathed in a silence that was more the cross between comfortable and awkward than any other emotion.

When he finally turned to her he said, "I ain't got much hope'a findin' that boy. He's pretty much dead already, knowin' what Shane can do."

Tilting her head slightly at him, Andrea crossed her arms and searched for something to say other that 'yeah, so?' but luckily, Daryl continued. "I could see it in yer eyes; you know Shane killed that vato. Jus' wanted to say don't worry."

Surprised by the softness in his voice, Andrea searched his face for something she hadn't seen before. When she found it in the slight worry creases by his eyes, the tightness of his lips, the way his eyes searched hers, she smiled and sighed. "I don't worry about you, Daryl. You know these woods. Just, ah, watch after Glenn."

She reached out as she spoke and laid a hand on his arm, wondering at the idea that he didn't shrug away. The moment was short-lived, however, as Glenn came trudging around the side of the barn loudly. Quickly dropping her hand, she glanced at Glenn and noticed that he hadn't even been looking. Instead, she continued loudly, "He had guts trying to take on Shane. Just make sure if you do find him that Shane doesn't get to him first when you bring him back."

There was that glint in Daryl's eye again but the softness he'd held in his face was gone. He nodded, "All right, Blondie, ya got a deal."

And she turned and walked away before the surprised Glenn could say anything.

- - - Now - - -

The walker hit hard and fast and Andrea didn't have any time to react. She slammed to the ground with the weight of the thing on her; she didn't know what was happening, all she knew was that she had to get away as quickly as she could before it dug its horrid mouth into her flesh. She tried reaching for something—_anything_—that allowed for a quick removal of the walker's brains but her grasping fingers could find only the ground. Her gun had been knocked away from her and the gun bag was nowhere to be found.

With a sudden _shlink_, the walker's head dropped away from its body and Andrea groaned as she looked upward, her breath quick in her throat. The figure wore a hood and carried a sword. With a quick movement, the figure cleaned the congealed blood from the sword, flicking it off of the shining metal object before slamming the sword into the walker's still-alive head. Or maybe the figure had killed the walker before cleaning the sword. Andrea couldn't really focus right now; her whole body ached.

"You bitten?" The figure asked and Andrea heard a distinctly woman voice.

Andrea managed to sit up and shake her head. The figure offered a hand, which Andrea took, thankfully, and hauled herself onto her feet. The figure had two walkers on a chain behind her, but Andrea took all of that in with stride. Her mind was so confused right now that anything could have happened (hell, Alice could have fallen through the rabbit hole and could have ended up in Nebraska for all she cared) and Andrea would have been fine with it.

"You need help." The figure said and pushed back its cloak so Andrea could see its face. _Her_ face; an African American woman stood before her. "I've made a camp not far away. My two will stave off any attacks. Let's go, you look like you need food."

Andrea swallowed, feeling the dryness of her mouth, and shakily nodded. She followed the woman, knowing she'd just met one of the better angels of this world.

- - - Last Night - - -

"Those walkers are going to overrun this place." Andrea said with worry printing deeply into her voice. She and Daryl stood away from the others on the deck. Andrea had her arms crossed and had drawn herself inward. In only a couple minutes, Daryl knew they would burst into action, but for now Rick and Herschel were deciding things.

"Ain't nothin' ta worry 'bout, Blondie." Daryl tried to calm her down, but when his words didn't do it, he stepped closer. She looked at him. "We'll survive."

"Yeah, like Dale, Shane, hell, even Jim and Jacqui. And Sophia." Andrea's voice was steely.

Not thinking—now was not a time for thinking—Daryl took her in his hands and turned her roughly to face him. He saw fear in her eyes, fear of _him_, not fear of death. He glared at her, roughly shaking her for a second, "You think like that you ain't no one I know." He growled out, "Andrea—"

"I love you." Andrea said suddenly. Caught off guard, Daryl squinted at her some more and dropped his hands.

"Daryl, I love you and I don't care what happens tonight, as long as you know." Andrea said again. And then she walked away, much to Daryl's disappointment.

Then Rick called for action and Daryl couldn't reciprocate the action of love.

- - - Now - - -

'We gotta go get her.' Daryl had said. Gotta go get her. Bring her back. He couldn't leave her out there. But Rick had forbidden it. Daryl would follow Rick into the gates of hell; hell, he'd follow Rick into a wildfire or maybe even the mouth of a chupacabra if he could. But that was one order Daryl didn't want to follow.

She loved him.

Those words wrapped warmly around his heart. No, Andrea wasn't dead. Despite what Carol said, Daryl knew Andrea was alive. Daryl decided he would allow Rick to keep him close for now, but soon he would go out and find her. Not at the barn—Andrea wouldn't go back to the barn—but somewhere else. Daryl would go and track her down.

Daryl loved Andrea back.

**If you hadn't noticed, or if you did notice but didn't think much of it, I've hidden quite a few 'Easter Eggs,' that is episode titles, into this fanfic. Try to spy them all!**


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